ISO
by MJP
Summary: [5 up] How is an image inscribed? How long must a sheet of film be exposed to form a photograph? How can a memory be converted to an image? How can two unlikely people make their own memories? [ShinjiXKyoko]
1. Exposure Value

**A/N**: I love the main romantic conflicts of FMP. SxT, SxK, KuxM, KxKu, L- K, etc. But there's two people that are somewhat developed that we have seen nothing of, even as supporting roles.

This all changed when I saw a story from Kyoko's POV for a drabble contest on the Livejournal FMP community. It got me thinking "Wow, that was very well-written. Wait, why not pair her with Shinji?" 

I thought to myself, "I thought what I'd do was I'd pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes."

Then I thought to myself "Hey, here are two characters worth exploring. One has quirks we know of already, but the other... she has this camera..."

Everyone's probably seen the episode of FMP where they go to the Narashino base. We see the roots of Shinji come to form there. But I see something in Kyoko that merits exploration. What does she see in that camera? Why is it always by her side? How does she view the world? What if they had something happening?

This story is based, appropriately enough, on photography. ISO, a reorganization of the initials for the International Standards Organization, is applied in photography as a type of film speed. Lower ISOs have higher exposure times, and higher ISOs have shorter exposure times. Think about how an image is inscribed, how a scene becomes a memory, and how a memory becomes a photograph, all by exposing light onto film and paper... or how it comes into a digital camera.

The chapter titles are all terms used in photography with some significance to the content. Definitions can be found at the end of each chapter. I have preserved honorifics for accuracy and better portrayal of the relationships between the characters. This is set after all the canon we know of; it starts in the middle of the third and final year of high school for our heroes.

Last bit of housekeeping info: this fic is being done completely un-betaed. I want to put my skills to the test and be the singular point of contact for anything on it. The people who take their time and effort to beta for me are consistently professional and helpful, but I would rather not continue to burden them. We're all busy in this world. Work, school, hobbies... yeah, it's a busy world.

On with the show!

* * *

**_1: Exposure Value_ **

* * *

**Year Three, Class D   
Jindai High School****  
Friday, September 22nd, 200X****  
3:28 PM**

"Where is he!"

Nobody flinched as the door slid open and crashed into the frame, shaking the safety-glass windows. A while before, they would have blown inwards from sheer force, but other instances of sheer force had prompted the glass to be replaced by its stronger cousin.

"Sagara's not here," a collective reply came from a group of boys in the back of the classroom, huddled around one desk. They grabbed at their lunches without looking; just in time, they were able to grab hold of their waste paper before it blew away from the gust of wind from the thrown-open door.

"I think he went to the bathroom a while ago," someone inquired. Daisuke Onodera – Ono-D to his friends – looked up from his latest issue of Afternoon. "Maybe about ten minutes?"

"Yes. He went to the bathroom." Kaname Chidori, class rep, senior, former Student Council vice-president, and rising star in math and science, stormed into the classroom and threw open the doors to the coat closet. "Where are you hiding!"

"But Kaname-san, you just said that he–"

"He went to the bathroom," Kaname continued, "and introduced a blocking chemical agent into the water pipes. 'In order to protect ourselves against a biochemical or radiological attack through potable water, we must secure our infrastructure until the appropriate filtration and cutoff systems are in place,'" Kaname mocked, throwing her voice into a deep, faux-male voice. "He dumped some kind of glue into the pipes, and now all the sinks, faucets, and toilets are stopped up! The janitors had to get up pumps they normally use for flooding from typhoons to clear the girls' room!"

Ono-D shuddered. "Oh boy. Sagara's gonna get it now."

"Yeah, he did go a bit overboard this time," a more high-pitched voice commented from behind a thick book. "After the biohazard leak last year, he –"

A loud _thwack_ caused three of the four boys around the table to draw back and cover their heads. The fourth, a bespectacled Shinji Kazama, rubbed his head and reached for his glasses, thrown off alignment by the impact of Kaname's harisen.

"Now is _not_ the time to support that stupid military otaku," Kaname almost growled. "Look, we're down to subsidizing the cafeteria from individual class funds to provide drinking water. That's not even considering the sports teams. At this rate, he's depleting the funds for our final class trip! I don't know if you guys want to miss out on Okinawa, but I sure as hell am not losing my trip to Sousuke!"

"But you didn't need to hit me..."

"I'm quashing dissent and eliminating his support base. You'll thank me when you have to walk to the convenience store on the corner to use the bathroom."

"Fine, fine." Shinji set aside his latest issue of Arm Slave Fan. "But I don't know where he went to. He went to the bathroom a half-hour ago."

"Yeah, and five minutes ago, the sinks started to fill up. If you see Sousuke, tell him he's lucky that they didn't serve anything spicy in the cafeteria today, because he's on cleanup detail!"

_Godzilla would envy that exit,_ Shinji thought as Kaname stomped out of the room, harisen armed and ready.

"We don't need any more excitement," Shinji sighed, slumping backwards in his chair. "I can't believe she 'volunteered' me to organize our class' contributions for the school trip."

"You wanna protest?" Ono-D asked, raising an eyebrow as he read the latest installment of Genshiken. "Face it, Shinji, it's not like we have anything better to do."

"It's not that. It's just that I have too much on my plate already, what with getting ready for entrance exams, class, clubs... now we gotta raise extra money."

"Yeah, about that, I think Tokiwa-san was looking for you," one of the other boys offered. "Apparently she volunteered herself for this train wreck."

"Oh, well, at least she'll have a better clue about doing this." Shinji put a bookmark in his AS Fan and took one last bite out of his yakisoba bread left over from lunch earlier. "I'm gonna go see if I can track her down."

"Hey, what do you know about fundraising anyway, Shinji?" Ono-D quipped.

"Nothing!" Shinji chuckled a little as he headed for the door. "When you're the only member of the Arm Slave Studies Club, though, you find a way through somehow."

Shinji shrugged his uniform jacket back on, already resenting the heavy garment in the warmth of the Tokyo Indian-summer weather, when the door slid open in his face. He stopped just short of banging his forehead on the glasses of the girl who was coming through.

"Hey, speak of the devil," Ono-D remarked with a wave, barely looking up from his magna. "Shinji was just coming to find you, Tokiwa-chan."

"Me?" Kyoko Tokiwa looked at the scared otaku, hands up almost defensively from the sudden shock. "Shinji, you look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I thought that Kaname-san would have you tracking down Sagara."

"Oh, he's been tracked down," Kyoko said, looking over her shoulder. "I think he's been impaled on the Tokyo Tower at this point. It was a good trick, hiding himself in the water cooler. He said something about dropping in some sort of test chemical."

Shinji winced. "Yeah, she had said something about biohazard testing, and given the fact that he was kinda our latest biohazard..."

"Oooh! Hold on just a second."

_It's her thing,_ Shinji reminded himself as he stepped aside by reflex. In one smooth motion, a pink blur flew from Kyoko's skirt pocket to just a few inches in front of her face. With a brief, electronic _tweedleet_ sound, her tiny Mizolta digital camera captured the image of the three boys eating lunch, staring into their magazines.

"Right in the natural habitat!" Kyoko chirped, examining the photo in her camera's LCD. "Anyway, yeah, we need to talk funding, don't we?"

"Yeah, but next time, don't leave me out of the picture," Shinji protested mildly.

"Don't worry. There's still tons of memory here left for the week." Kyoko patted her camera lovingly. "Anyway, what's going on with the funding?"

"Apparently because of Sagara's latest situation, we're in the hole for a few thousand yen per class because everyone's gotta chip in for drinking water."

"Yeah, I heard. The thing is, it's worse off."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Kyoko pulled up a chair to her desk for Shinji and sat in her own chair, smoothing the pleats of her skirt out. "Apparently we already bought out the local convenience stores for drinking water, so we had to buy other things in bulk to suffice for the sports teams..."

"Hey!" an angered cry came from the direction of the soccer field. "Why'd you throw that cup of grapefruit juice at my face!"

"Don't look at me!" a response came. "You looked sweaty, and I thought it was water!"

"Ah, I see," Shinji nodded, flipping the chair around to lean forward on the backrest. "So what are we working with?"

"Hmmm." Kyoko pulled out an accountant's columnar book from her school bag. "Yeah, I see what you mean," the unofficial class treasurer remarked, taking a quick photo of the current class budget. "We're going to have to work on these numbers... you're not doing anything right now, right, Shinji-kun?"

"No, I'm just having a meeting of the AS Studies Club while the clubroom is still being repaired."

"It's kinda hard to have a club meeting when you're the only member, Shinji-kun," Kyoko said flatly, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, it's hard to meet anywhere after our homebuilt AS project kinda went awry," Shinji chuckled awkwardly. "Heh... Sagara was a great resource; I don't know where he got the palladium reactor from, but our testbed chassis kinda leapt straight through the wall."

"Shinji-kun, how do you keep the club going? You're the only member, Sagara keeps breaking things, and you spend all your funding subscribing to AS Fan."

"Not true!" Shinji held up a finger in almost-mock indignance. "Remember the Narashino Post Festival? It was Sagara's idea, but normally it's only open to families." He crossed his arms and nodded with authority. "We were able to bill it as a club event, so technically everyone who went was a member of the Arm Slave Studies Club of Jindai High."

"I'm sure Kana-chan appreciated that," Kyoko jabbed Shinji's arm with her pen. "Come on, we've got to work out what we've got here."

"Right, right."

_Well, at least I'm not in this alone,_ Shinji thought, crunching a few numbers on Kyoko's borrowed calculator. _Kyoko-san has a good head on her shoulders._

_Someone's gotta back up Kana-chan,_ Kyoko thought as she flipped through the accounting book. _She's still as burdened as ever, even though she's not on the Student Council anymore._

"Hey, Kyoko-san," Shinji inquired as he punched in the total influx of Student Council funding for the month of August. "Did Sagara-kun and Kaname-san ever end up on that date a while back?"

"I don't even think Sousuke was sure it was a date, from how he explained it," Shinji scratched his head after a moment's thought. "Even I had to coach him on avoiding all the military talk. Nobody else understood what he was saying well enough to translate it into normal Japanese life."

"Well, you did a good thing," Kyoko smiled with an affirming nod. "They needed a date."

"It seems like all we ever do is get them together," Shinji sighed. "Hey, you think that if we were able to get the Council to transfer the supplies allocation to the water purchase, we'd be able to put the leftovers towards the class trip fund?"

"Sounds like a plan. They were barely getting anywhere on their own, anyway. I caught them holding hands once, though."

"Holding hands? Sousuke Sagara? OUR Sousuke Sagara?" Shinji leaned back a little bit, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wow. I'd have to see it to believe it."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do!" Kyoko chirped, pulling out her Mizolta and turning it to View mode. A few presses of the button showed a picture taken at an awkward angle, and sure enough, their two friends were holding hands.

"Wow, this was just last month, according to the date stamp," Shinji's eyes lit up. "I can't believe they were even holding hands... maybe they were on a different date and never told us?"

Kyoko scratched her chin for a moment, eyes rolled back slightly in thought. "It could be possible, knowing them," she ventured as Shinji leaned in a little closer to her, not wanting to miss a word. "But then again, knowing them, the 'date' was probably him tackling a street vendor for shouting 'terrorist slogans' at Kana-chan that were really sales pitches for new cell phones."

Shinji and Kyoko couldn't help but laugh at that. "Hey, you guys want us to leave?" one of the boys at the table said wryly, looking up from Shonen Jump for a moment. "Maybe you two oughta have that date that Sagara and Chidori never had."

"Hey, we're not going on any dates!" Kyoko immediately replied, a blush clearly evident.

"Yeah! We're just working on budget figures!"

"Sure, you work on those budget figures." Ono-D closed his manga and stood up from his desk, buttoning up his uniform jacket. "Come on, guys, let's leave 'em alone. I was going to stop by the game center on the way home anyway, wanna come?"

"Yeah, sure" and "I'm in" came from the other two boys, and they made their way out past Shinji and Kyoko, who had suddenly gone quiet.

"In your dreams!" Kyoko shouted in parting, sticking out her tongue at Ono-D's back.

"Geez, what were they thinking?" Shinji thought out loud. "I'm not dateable as is. I probably wouldn't even date myself if I were a girl."

"Hey, Shinji-kun, don't be so un-confident," Kyoko held up her hands in a faux fighting pose. "You're a good guy!"

"Well, it's not like I'm going to have the chance to have a girlfriend for long." Seeing nobody else in the room or walking past in the hallway, he unbuttoned his jacket and draped it on an empty chair. "I really think I'm going to go for it."

"So you're really thinking of joining the SDF?" Kyoko looked up at Shinji, looking over the rims of her glasses. "Shinji-kun, you're really not the military type..."

"Yeah, you can say that again." Shinji nodded affirmatively. "Everyone says that, and I guess it's true. I mean, I can barely run a mile or do twenty push-ups. But it's just... well..."

"You're that into Arm Slaves," Kyoko finished. "I guess it fits for you, but you're really willing to join the SDF?"

"It's not like Japan is going to war with anyone anytime soon," Shinji observed. "North and South China were fighting enough to the point that Taiwan declaring its independence went nearly unnoticed. North Korea is still trying to invade South China, and the United States is up in arms over the Third Gulf War. We don't depend much on anyone anymore now that the palladium reactors in Sapporo and Fukuoka are online. All I want to do is operate an AS. I don't care if it's in peacetime or in war, I want to operate an AS."

"But what about construction? That new bridge in Nihonbashi is being built exclusively with labor-type ASes, y'know. We pass it all the time on the way to Yokohama."

"I know, but still..." Shinji rubbed his thumbs together for a moment. "Sagara went for a training run in an AS at Narashino over the summer, and he took to it like a fish in water. He could run, jump, tuck and roll... he controlled that Type 96 like an extension of his own body!"

His eyes lit up as he illustrated with his hands, moving around haphazardly as if to indicate a dogfight. "Simulation after simulation, he ran and attacked like nobody's business! He was so cool doing that..."

"Geez, Kana-chan's probably going to get jealous if you're scoping Sagara-kun like that," Kyoko raised one eyebrow. "I didn't know you were into guys, Shinji-kun."

"I'm not!" Shinji waved his hands in a precautionary measure. "It's just..."

"Just?"

"It's... well... since my father couldn't..."

"Ah, I see," Kyoko nodded. "I guess I can kinda understand, but it'd be stupid if you had to die in some war."

_Die in some war... I don't want that..._

"Well..." Shinji sat down from his enthusiastic recitation of Sousuke's Arm Slave practice. "I at least want to do something cool with Arm Slaves. I know that people really frown on signing on with the military, but it's about all I can do that I'd be interested in." Shinji chuckled lightly. "I guess you know how it is, Kyoko-san."

"Huh? Like how?"

"Well, you're always taking pictures of people."

Kyoko held her Mizolta up questioningly. "Yeah, but what do you mean?"

"You seem like you'd fit right in with a fine arts school for photography."

She looked at the tiny pink camera. "Well, I never really thought about it... I always assumed I'd just get a job somewhere."

"Oh. I thought you'd go right in for something like that."

Kyoko shrugged. "It never crossed my mind."

"Right... I'm sorry." Shinji nodded. "Let's get back to the budgeting."

"Sure... okay," Kyoko nodded, a little puzzled.

_You idiot, stop prying. She doesn't want you messing around in her head. Stick to what you know. Work out this budget, then you can get back to AS Fan... not like you'll be going to the practice rooms after this._

_Why is it that I never thought about school before he mentioned it? _

_Why not photography, anyway?_

**To be continued...**


	2. Focal Length

_**2: Focal Length**_

* * *

**Narashino Ground Self Defense Force Base  
****5th Division, 96th Assault Machine Troop Headquarters  
****Friday, September 22nd, 200X  
****5:25 PM**

The explosion had blown the side off of the storage hangar, cooking off nearby Boxer cannon rounds and heavy anti-AS missiles in the nearby ammo dump. Four bodies were visible to the Operations tower without having moved the wreckage, and the base fire crews had deployed with their HAZMAT gear on. Nobody wanted to think about the depleted-uranium cores of the Boxer rounds catching fire.

"Engage pressure on the PFR!" the senior damage-control officer, a lieutenant-colonel, screamed over his tactical radio. "Contain the fire on the south side of the storage hangar and move in once a path is clear!"

The roar of helicopters – French Dauphin search-and-rescue choppers – echoed overhead. "Get me the lead chopper of the 35th Wing on tactical," the officer shouted to a subordinate, waving him over. "Tell them to drop in from the roof on a cool spot."

"35th is on tac channel one, sir!" the subordinate responded. "They're already on the line!"

Racing onto a fire engine, its roaring turbodiesel kicking into gear, the lieutenant-colonel grabbed onto a handhold as the huge truck raced out of its garage, sirens blazing. "This is Ninamori!" the officer yelled into his handheld tactical radio.

"Sir, this is Sawamoto, rescue specialist on Inabayama-1, lead rescue chopper. We are in position to descend onto the roof."

"Cleared to the roof! Check your IR for anyone still alive in there! We're sending in the rescue teams from the ground, so be careful where you drop in from!"

"Affirmative. Reading seven heat signatures, and we have four likely casualties on the outside of the hangar."

"Confirmed. Get your men in there!"

The Dauphins swooped over the hangar, the downdraft from their rotors blowing the thick, black smoke of burning aviation-quality gas and explosive residue aside. Heavy-duty winches rapidly lowered, and a rescue team leader rappelled down from the lead chopper. His feet made easy contact with the concrete floor of the hangar.

"Keep your mask seals tight!" he barked out to the other members of the rescue team. "Fan out and stay away from the damaged side of the building!"

"Sir!" a team member yelled out. "I've found a survivor!"

"Call it in!"

"Roger!" The rescue team member knelt down to check the man's pulse and dog tags. "Lieutenant-Colonel Ninamori, we've found at least one survivor. He's badly injured and we are medevacing him."

"Copy. Hurry it up!" Lieutenant-Colonel Ninamori pocketed the radio as he hung on to the racing fire truck. Its rooftop fire-retardant dispenser wasalreadymanned and spewing high-velocity retardant power on the raging fire. "We've got to clear this fire so we can figure out what the _hell_ happened here!"

**Narashino-shi, Jieishan, 4-chome 22-12 (Kazama residence)  
****Friday, September 22nd, 200X  
****5:45 PM**

"Two new messages."

"I'm hoooome," Shinji announced to the empty, small house on the outskirts of the Sengawa ward. Bordering on Chiba, the Ground SDF had long since bought up tracts of housing for soldiers based out of Narashino and their familes. It was still late enough that Emiko Kazama, Shinji's mother, was still on the commute back from Shin-Yokohama.

"First new message. Recorded on Friday September 22nd at 5:25 PM." The answering machine clicked the tape into place. "Hi, Shin-chan, it's me," Emiko's voice came over the recording. "I'm delayed a little bit tonight, so if you could take the fish out of the fridge and prepare the dashi for the miso, it'll help speed dinner up. There's a letter from a Nakayama-san for you on the table. I love you!"

The recording clicked off as Shinji opened up the letter, a form letter selling the GSDF benefits package and career assistance plans. _Sergeant Major Nakayama from the Chiba SDF recruitment office,_ Shinji thought. _He's expecting an answer, after all. Might as well say no to following in my father's footsteps, and – _

The answering machine continued its litany. "Second new message. Recorded on Friday September 22nd at 5:42 PM."

"Huh?" Shinji looked up from the standard recruiting letter and checked his watch. "That wasn't five minutes ago..."

The recording played for only a few seconds. It was random road noise, punctuated by the brief honk of a car in the distance and a passing train. The message clicked to an end in the midst of the monotone _bing-bing-bing_ of the train's electronic bell, fading into the distance from Doppler effect.

"What was that all about?" Shinji pressed the Erase All button on the phone and the tape rewound to the beginning, clicking back into place. The ringing of the front doorbell obscured the last clicks of the machine setting itself back into place.

"At least let me put my books and stuff down," Shinji groaned, tossing his hard brown leather school bag on the kitchen table and dashing to the door. "One second," he yelled out, stepping into a pair of outdoor slippers in the vestibule.

He opened the door to two unfamiliar men in uniforms. He knew them too well – the impeccably pressed green serge dress uniform of the Japanese Ground Self Defense Force, with the other man in a worn AS pilot suit. Every single detail on the uniforms sprung up in his mind – _wow, he has a Third Gulf War Service Ribbon... and an AS Marksmanship Merit Medal_ – before he saw the somber details on their faces.

"Are you Shinji Kazama?" the taller man in uniform asked, opening his wallet to reveal an SDF ID badge. "I'm General Hitori Okubo, base commander at Narashino. This is Colonel Takeshi Kamiyama, commanding officer of the 96th Assault Machine Troop."

"Oh, Colonel Kamiyama," Shinji bowed politely. "I actually met you at last year's New Year's party at the base. You work with my father."

"Right. I remember you, son," Colonel Kamiyama returned Shinji's bow. "Your father and Sergeant Major Nakayama in Chiba speak very highly of you."

"I apologize for coming unannounced like this, Shinji-kun," General Okubo jumped in, "but we have something we need to tell you."

"To tell me?" Shinji looked confused. "Um... please come in. I'm sorry, we haven't been expecting you, but – "

"This isn't a time you need to worry about being polite, Shinji-kun," the General cut him off. "Please come with us to Narashino. We have a car waiting."

_The SDF has regulations against soldiers wearing their uniforms in public when it's not a parade or function... they're supposed to wear civilian clothing. They change into their uniforms at the base. The only time they'd wear those in public is on official business._

"What's going on?"

Shinji felt his heart start to pound in his chest. He didn't realize that he was biting the inside of his lower lip, something he had never done, not even when his life had been threatened before. _I wasn't this nervous at Khanka, during all those explosions at school, or sneaking onto Kaname-san's porch... what's going on?_

Almost as an afterthought, just when the General had told him about the explosion at Narashino, he wondered what he was going to do about the budget for the class trip.

**Sengawa-shi, Mitsutomo-chome 481, 4th floor (Tokiwa residence)  
****6:44 PM**

"Kyoko-chan?"

"Hm?" Kyoko looked up from collecting her father's dinner plates. It was a Friday night, the last night when salmon was on sale at the Sengawa shopping arcade. The dashi and soy sauce glaze was as good as Ryoko Tokiwa, Kyoko's mother, had ever made it. The fact that it was her father Takuto's payday was just an additional happy extra for the small family.

"I mentioned that Kaname-san called earlier, right?"

"Really?" Kyoko set the dishes in the sink and started washing them.

"You were in the shower," Ryoko replied, taking a sip of green tea as her husband pored over the evening-edition Asahi Daily News. "I think she might have called your cell phone, too."

"Okay, I'll check later. Thanks, mom."

"Don't forget that you have an appointment with Dr. Takinawa tomorrow after school. It's just a follow-up."

"'kay."

Kyoko hummed to herself as she washed off the rest of the dishes. _I wonder if Kana-chan would want to check out that new taiyaki stand in Shimokitazawa tomorrow,_ she thought. _She mentions it all the time. Maybe we won't have to worry about Sagara-kun "inspecting" the place again. Speaking of which, maybe they reopened the ramen shop in Harajuku after that smoke bomb went off._

Her cell phone had a "1 Missed Call" with Kaname's name and number flagged. A few quick presses of the button dialed the number back.

"Hello? Kyoko?" Kaname sounded panicked.

"Kana-chan! What's up?"

"Oh, I'm glad I finally got to you. Look... this isn't really easy, Kyoko-chan, but... well... they have me doing some class rep stuff..."

"Class rep stuff? Like what?"

"Well..." Kaname trailed off. "I'm calling everyone in the class to let them know about Shinji's father."

"Huh? Shinji's father? What about him?"

"You'd better turn on the news."

**Narashino GSDF Base  
****6:55 PM**

_Dad does this every day._

The nondescript Nissan roared down the suburban streets of Narashino, the flashing blue emergency lights almost in time with the droning, electronic _wee-ooo wee-ooo wee-ooo _of its siren.

_Every day, he drives the five miles on suburban streets and ten miles on the Tokai Expressway, taking exit 29C for the Narashino GSDF base._

The honking alarm persisted as Colonel Kamiyama drove the car hard down the exit ramp, down the spiral road to the neighborhood of Narashino-shi Sanadokan, a hair's distance from the main base entrance.

_He checks in at the guard post._

The base guard had already raised the gate as he saw the car make its way off the exit ramp. They took an immediate left, following the signs to Base Administration, Command Headquarters, Motor Pool, AS Storage, and the Base Hospital.

_He takes the first left past the gate to get to Administration. He never needs to take the third left to the hospital._

A helicopter roared overhead. Shinji didn't bother to poke his head out the window to look, or evaluate it based on the noise of its rotors. The smoke cloud had dissipated through the rest of the base as the fire was brought under control, spreading an acrid, sharp metallic twinging scent to the air.

_He never ended up in there._

The car screeched to the halt just as an ambulance roared out of the parking lot, lights flashing but siren silenced. Colonel Kamiyama opened the passenger side door to let General Okubo out, but before the Colonel could open the door for Shinji, the boy had already gotten out of the car.

Kamiyama flagged down a man in combat fatigues bearing a G36 rifle, barking out commands to get a status report and summon the base commanders for an emergency meeting. Okubo saw his subordinate run off and turned to Shinji, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing I can say will ease your mind, Shinji-kun," the General said in a low, sympathetic voice. "I can only try to help you by promising that we will exhaust every single resource at Narashino to treat your father's injuries."

"He's going to be fine," Shinji said, his voice more than a little bit jittery. "I know it. He's still alive, so he's going to be fine."

Colonel Kamiyama jogged back to the General. "Sir, we're convening a command staff meeting in fifteen minutes in the Command Center."

"Right. Kamiyama-kun, you go and tell them I'll be on my way." Okubo turned to Shinji. "Would you like to move on?"

Shinji didn't even bother nodding at first, taking a moment to compose himself. He felt his stomach well up, half with a sudden rushing feeling of crashing, colliding sadness, half with an equally intense wave of nausea.

"Yeah..." he eked out. "I'm ready."

"This way."

The General led Shinji through the busy admitting area, through spaces set aside for triage. Soldiers in fatigues, base uniforms, and civilian clothes were lined up on the hard plastic chairs of a waiting room, being checked out by nurses and doctors. Shinji didn't get a chance to see how many, but there were shouts of pain from broken limbs, cuts, burns, fractures, bleeding, and everything in between.

The Intensive Care Ward was on the top floor of the base hospital. _Of course it'd be this far up,_ Shinji thought, staring at his shoes. _The roof probably has a helipad..._

"Your father was caught beneath the rubble of the roof, from what I've been told," General Okubo said, breaking the silence that had persisted since they had stepped into the elevator. "He was also caught in the edge of the fire just as rescue crews started to move in. He was the first one pulled out of the wreckage after the explosion."

"But what happened?" Shinji turned to look up at the General, a pleading gaze piercing the older man's dignified visage. "How could a Type 96 just blow up like that!"

"We're going to find that out for sure, Shinji-kun. I don't know what it is right now, but we'll find out."

_The Type 96 has a weak leg joint on its right side. The initial batch of M6 Bushnels purchased from the United States came from a factory where the quality-control team was in transition at the time of production due to a union turnover agreement. The joint affects several Bushnels in service with NATO and is being replaced by manufacturer teams, most of whom were affected by the union turnover at the Rockwell factory in California. The weak joint, when overloaded, can cause a cut to the primary hydraulics, and –_

"Shinji-kun, we're here."

_Room 203._

Shinji swallowed, the lump in his throat giving no quarter. It was a one-bed room, and when he opened it, four nurses looked up at him, supervised by a young-looking doctor.

"You're Secretary Kazama's son?" the doctor asked.

Shinji nodded, nervous all of a sudden. "I'm Shinji Kazama, yeah."

"Good. My name's Dr. Matsuo Mizukoshi, supervisor of dermatology. I'm taking over your father's case."

"Is he going to get better?" Shinji blurted out.

"Your father has several fractured ribs, a shattered left arm, and forty percent of his torso has first- and second-degree burns. Furthermore, he has reflexively inhaled a heavy degree of smoke..."

Shinji looked over the shoulder of one of the nurses, a young man who looked like he was a medical intern. He saw his father, shirtless, lying half-covered by the sheets of the hospital bed. Sparse, white gauze bandages were wrapped around his chest and most of his stomach, and his left arm was in a traction sling.

"Dad?" he whispered as the doctor explained the process for a skin graft that had long since been completed.

_He never could pilot Arm Slaves. He didn't have the feel for it. So he works behind the lines. He provides support. He's critical. He's fought hard for it every day of his life, hasn't he? He likes what he does! He's my father!_

"Dad!"

He didn't hear the protestations of the doctor who tried to hold him back, or the nurse he physically wedged himself next to. Behind his glasses, Shinji kept blinking back the painful, worried tears that welled up so heavily against his willpower, forcing them back.

"Dad, you can hear me, can't you?"

His eyes were open and alert, slightly narrowed from the pain that whatever prescription painkiller he was on simply couldn't prevent. Though dulled, he was able to turn his gaze over to his son, ignoring the pain from turning his neck.

"Shinji..."

"Dad, are you okay? Does it hurt much?"

"Kazama-kun, please! We understand that this is painful, but we have much more that we have to do for your father!"

_The cut to the primary hydraulics can cause a catastrophic drop in pressure if the backup hydraulics are improperly calibrated for battlefield conditions, for example in a training environment..._

"Shinji, don't worry too much."

His father's hand on his shoulder had to hurt the older man a great deal the way he had to turn towards his tractioned left arm.

Shinji's tears welled to the point that he could no longer blink them away. He closed his eyes and clenched his hands on the clinically cold metal frame of the hospital bed, squeezing as if to crush it by proxy.

_He's hurting himself to make me feel better. To make me live better. To protect Japan..._

"Dad..."

**To be continued...**


	3. Developer

**A/N:** Dr. Takinawa is just a little bit of pat-on-the-back. A long time ago in a college dorm far, far away, I re-ventured into writing with a horrifically obvious piece of quasi-self-insertion original anime-style fiction. It can be found on Fictionpress if you're enterprising enough to take a search or ten. That story never got finished, but he's a natural choice for the neurologist in this story, so go MJP, go. :-)

On with the show!_**

* * *

**_

_**3: Developer**_

* * *

**Offices of Dr. Hiroshi Takinawa**  
**Edogawa-chome Kameido 14-ku, Tokyo  
****Saturday, September 23rd, 200X  
****2:35 PM**

"So, how have things been with you, Kyoko-chan?"

Dr. Hiroshi Takinawa was the picture of a distinguished neurologist, or any other academician-slash-doctor that Japan could produce. He had the slight twinge of silver to his hair that marked his age and experience, rivaled only by the smile lines around his eyes and the open, concerned gaze of an experienced clinician.

"They've been going pretty well," Kyoko responded, tapping her chin in thought. "I've been studying for school and exams a lot... my parents signed me up for a cram school, which has been pretty good so far. I really need the extra attention, that's for sure. It's good being able to ask questions in class, rather than just being talked at."

"Do you ask a lot of questions in the classes?"

"Yeah, mostly I'm a bit behind in classical lit and English. My friend Kana somehow got fantastic in math and science, and I'm pretty good with history and Japanese. I could really have a good shot at college."

_If I knew what to do with it..._

"Have you felt different without the medication?"

Kyoko shook her head. "I've felt pretty fine the past few months. I just find myself taking lots of pictures as sort of an after-effect... more like a habit, kinda."

"No persistent headaches, upset stomach or nausea, no change in your appetite?"

"Nope, none of those."

"Excellent." Dr. Takinawa scrawled his last few notes in the illegible physician's script that plagued doctors worldwide, differentiated only by the language written. He set Kyoko's case file aside, clasping his hands together on his desk as he leaned forward. "Kyoko, I want to ask you a few more questions, but they might be a little personal. You don't have to answer them if you don't want to, but these will help us get to the roots of your condition's development. I hope you'll be willing to answer them, though."

"Okay..." Kyoko blinked, confused. "Sure, no problem."

"How has school been going other than classes? Are you still playing softball?"

"Yeah, I'm still on the team. I haven't been dropping much or anything... I'm even helping Kana-chan with her class rep stuff most of the time. It keeps me going, even with schoolwork."

"Good." Dr. Takinawa leaned back a little and smiled. "Very good. You're doing much better than anyone would have expected, Kyoko-chan. You have no idea how happy I am for you."

"I haven't really done anything special, Takinawa-sensei," Kyoko said, blushing a little. "It's really just a matter of getting everything straight. Taking pictures helps a lot."

Dr. Takinawa held up a hand. "Kyoko-chan, if that camera of yours lets you see the world in a way that helps your condition, I say to hell with everything else. You're not experiencing any undue stress, right?"

Kyoko shook her head. "No, not me... but a friend of mine is kind of going through rough times."

"Oh? That's too bad," Dr. Takinawa said sympathetically. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well..."

**Year Three, Class D  
Jindai High School  
Saturday, September 23rd, 200X  
8:48 AM**

Somehow, the sliding classroom door spoke volumes. It wasn't because the classroom was waiting on him, it wasn't because of any failure to grease the door's tracks, and it certainly wasn't because he announced himself.

_He'll be all right. He really will. He's going to be fine... eventually._

"Shinji..." Kaname was the first to approach him. "I heard about your father... we all – "

She paused as he met her eyes and looked right down at the floor. "It's all right," he replied weakly, trying to cover the forcing of his smile. "He's going to be just fine. It's just a lot of bad injuries, that's all. Nothing too horrible. He's going to live."

"Look, I can understand where you're coming from, Shinji. This might sound strange coming from me, but –"

_I can talk to you. I can tell you everything. I **could** if I just wanted to. I could if I could just... oh, forget it._

"It's going to be OK, Shinji. We're here for you."

"Thanks," he replied impassively, going over to his desk. He sat down, not lazily but not actively, and opened up his AS Fan.

The door opened again, just a little. Kyoko peeked in a little bit, then opened the door the rest of the way. She exchanged a "Hi!" or two with a couple of the girls, and went straight for Kaname.

"He's probably not taking it too well," Kaname shook her head. "Geez. I was only a little kid when my mom died, but it wasn't fun... for her, it was over time, just like this."

"Yeah, this can't be easy on him," Kyoko added, nodding sympathetically. "Shinji looked up to his father a lot, despite how he kept trying to catch up with him, get him to understand how he felt."

"I wanna say he's lucky to have a father to show up," Kaname lamented. "I guess you're going to have to do two peoples' budgeting, Kyoko. Don't worry, I can help you."

"Nah, it's OK, I can handle it. I need the math practice, remember? I'll go talk to Shinji about it."

_I need to read up on the M6. If I ever want to handle the single-seat model, I'll need every leg up... and then there's the matter of basic tr-_

"Um... Shinji?"

He looked up. "Oh. Hey, Kyoko."

"Listen, I guess it goes without saying, but don't worry about the budget stuff for the class trip. Take the time you need to be with your family, and with your father."

"Oh, that? I finished it last night. Here."

"Huh?"

Before she could protest, Shinji had reached into his backpack and pulled out a columnar pad and a burned CD. "Everything's on paper and in this Excel sheet. I took all the data I could and crunched the numbers so we could run simulations on the funding transfers. You can take a look at it later."

"All this?" Kyoko's eyebrows shot up as she browsed the columnar pad. "Shinji, this must have taken you all night!"

"Well, I didn't have much to do... I stayed at the Narashino base hospital."

"Huh!"

"They brought me just when I got home from school yesterday, and I wanted to stay behind to make sure Dad was OK..."

_...and to talk to Sergeant Major Nakayama..._

"Wow. Shinji, you really didn't need to do all this."

"They let me use one of their computers. It's OK."

"Wow. Seriously, wow. I know! Let me buy you lunch to celebrate! I know a great ramen shop in Harajuku that I was going to go to with Kana-chan, but you should come with us!"

"That's OK... thanks, but I'm heading back to the base after school," Shinji replied morosely.

"Well, at least let me get you a yakisoba bread from the co-op! We can get one for your father, too; it'll help him get better!"

"Can't," Shinji shook his head. "He... he's still intubated, still on a partial ventilator."

"Oh... well..."

"It's OK," Shinji flatly replied. "I'm fine, really. It's no problem. Let me know anything else that needs to be done for the school trip."

"Shinji, I wish I could tell you I knew how this feels..." Kyoko ventured. "But... well... we're here for you, y'know. Nobody wants your father or your family to suffer."

"I know. I don't want him to suffer either. Not from something like a stupid bad joint on the Type 96." Shinji slammed the AS Fan closed angrily, avoiding Kyoko's gaze. "Sorry, I'm going to the boys' room."

"Hey, Shinji, c'mon, lighten up. Kyoko's just –" Kaname ventured, forcing the anger back at how he was treating Kyoko. He simply breezed past her and slid the door open and closed behind him.

"Geez, the _nerve_ of that kid!" Kaname fumed, sitting down next to Kyoko. "It's like he's gone from otaku to jerk. His father's going to get better!"

"Yeah, he will," Kyoko nodded slowly, a concerned look on her face. "But that's no guarantee that a part of Shinji didn't get burned in that fire, too."

_I'll call the Sergeant Major later today,_ Shinji thought as he walked down the hall, destined for the roof. He had no intention of going back to the Saturday classes. _I'll call the Sergeant Major when I get to the base. After I see my dad again._

**To be continued...**


	4. Shutter Speed

**

* * *

4: Shutter Speed**

* * *

**Jindai High Athletic Field**  
**Tuesday, September 26th, 200X  
****7:15 AM**

The track team members just kept running in their morning laps. It was an intensive training regimen, especially for the distance runners, most of whom had been on the practice grounds since the ungodly hour of 7 AM.

"Hey, who's that?" A track runner asked between quick breaths, running at pace with the ten other members of the hundred-meter dash squad.

"Dunno," a teammate responded in kind, as the tailing member of the squad moved a lane aside to dash to the front of the pack. "I'm next, be careful."

"Kid's been puffing every ten feet since he got here," the first team member remarked as his teammate made the dash, the entire pack still running swiftly around the large, sponge-turf oval. "He on a team?"

Shinji bent over, breathing heavily and rapidly, already feeling numbness run through his chest. "Just... huff... breathe... huff..." he half-spoke/half-coughed, forcing himself not to talk, just breathe. "Just breathe. Get it back." _Get your breath back and keep going._

He checked his watch as the track team rounded the far curve, about seventy-five yards from him. The entire track team took the curve in a full-on sprint, keeping the same near-military pace.

_A standard march is one hundred and twenty steps per minute. A jogging march is four hundred and eighty steps per minute, done to cadence calls. The Americans use songs for cadence, the JSDF uses calls and responses. Left, right, left right. Get back up and do it._

Shinji toweled the sweat off of his face, still panting in the cool autumn morning.

_My legs already hurt. I might as well give up before I even really try. Just give up and keep going._

He set back off on the track, going straight into a fast jog.

_Just give up and be a base secretary._

The hollow resonance of Shinji's rapid gait hearkened him, kept pushing him onward as the spongy track surface pushed his movements onward. _My feet are the primary hydraulic propulsion platforms of a Type 96. My legs are the hydraulic systems themselves. Machines don't stop, dammit, and I can't either. I have to keep running. I have to get stronger._

The track team finished up their practice laps at 8:30, a half-hour before classes began at Jindai High. Shinji trailed a few yards behind the team members, chatting happily, trading shots about the upcoming metropolitan tournament, practicing, stretching, drinking copious amounts of water.

_They've been at it their whole lives, too. They've been practicing for a really long time._

_Call and response cadence. I wish I still had that old tape my dad found in the attic. They had training marches and running cadences from the War… hell, even the JSDF training tapes would come in handy…_

The shower was comforting, cold, and intensive, forcing his blood to pump and his heart to keep beating. Shinji stood under the shower head for as long as he could before soaping and shampooing himself, eyes pinched closed against the needle sprays.

The tempo of his heartbeat didn't slow down until later in the day, keeping him alert during class. His lungs still ached from his exercise, an agonizing two-kilometer run for which he hadn't asked anyone for advice on warming up. His ankles throbbed painfully, and he couldn't settle upon a comfortable position as he paid half his attention to a lecture on Matsuo Basho. The other half went into filling out budget forms for the Student Council trip.

"What'd you do to Shinji?" Kaname poked Kyoko, raising an eyebrow in his direction. "He's not sneaking peeks at AS Fan during class for once."

"I told him he didn't have to do anything, but he just keeps taking stuff from the assignment folders for the trip. This morning, he took over flight and ground transportation booking, hotel and rental property comparison, budget requisitioning, discretionary budgeting… he's doing the work of two people."

"Wow, so he's coming in early to do all that?"

"That's the weird thing. I was here early to meet with the executive board, and he wasn't anywhere to be found."

"Geez. I doubt he's even got time to do this at home. Why's he doing so much work?"

"I wish I knew, Kana-chan. I mean, it's getting everything done for the trip, but after school, a car arrives for him from Narashino and he goes straight to the base. Points for dedication, but seriously…"

"Yeah, seriously."

**Narashino GSDF Base, Building 27**  
**Physical Training (Indoor)  
****4:45 PM**

"Nine. Good. Keep going."

Shinji lowered himself down from the apex of the push-up, already feeling the strain in his thin biceps. He forced his legs to remain straight, in line with his spine, as he pushed downward, forcing himself back up.

"Ten. Twenty more."

He apexed the push-up, arms still aching.

"Eleven. Good. Keep going."

_Push. Push, dammit. You'll never make it if you don't push._

His arms wobbled as he kept forcing himself upwards, raging against gravity, his own weight, his underdeveloped muscles, his skinny frame. He reached eleven only by locking his elbow muscles, then let himself tumble down to the floor.

"Eleven. Have you been lifting any weights at all?"

"No," Shinji admitted shyly, shaking his head.

Sergeant Major Kazuya Nakayama patted Shinji on the back, bringing the young man to his feet with swiftness. Shinji had to remind himself he didn't have to stand at attention or military stance, but part of him took over. He clasped his hands behind his back, shoulders squared, as if awaiting orders.

"You're making a real commitment, and that's something I don't see often at all," Nakayama commented. "I'll be backing you up on this, but are you willing to follow up on that commitment?"

"I've started running mornings at the track, and the sports teams have a weight room I can use. They owe the Photography Club a few favors, so it shouldn't be any problem."

Nakayama pulled out a sheet of paper. "Start on some crunches. I'll draw up a training regimen for you."

_A two-kilometer run. Thirty push-ups. Fifty stomach crunches, forty if it's on the incline bench. Ten chin-ups. Two kilometers in nine minutes or less in running shoes. _

"I want to focus on a cross-training program that'll develop you to a point where you can pass the physical requirements for the Defense Agency officer corps. It's commendable that you want to start from basic training, but I still think it's a waste for you not to go to the National Defense Academy, Shinji-kun."

"I know, sir," Shinji managed to grunt between stomach crunches. _Ten._ "But if I go into the GSDF, I want to pilot Arm Slaves, not command troops. If I get an officer's commission, I'll only be commanding and leading." _Fifteen._ "That's not what I want to do."

"Then we'll keep you aiming high. If you can't push yourself to pass officer requirements, you might stagnate in your training."

_Twenty._ "I want to push myself, sir."

"Just get the 'sir' out of your system," Nakayama chuckled. "NCOs get addressed by rank. Your politeness will do you in."

_Twenty-five._ "Yes, Sergeant Major!"

"I won't try to invoke your father's pride in you, Shinji-kun," Nakayama looked up as Shinji panted through his crunches. "It's not my place to say how he would feel, but I do want to tell you that I haven't seen anyone as dedicated as you come through my office since I started recruiting for the GSDF."

"I want to pilot Arm Slaves, Sergeant Major Nakayama!"

_Forty._

"It's what I want to do… for my own sake, and my friends… and my father."

"Shinji, remember that being a member of a team means you can't take all the glory, neither can you take all the ignominy. Don't let yourself be dragged down by all this."

"I won't."

_Forty-one. Keep going._

"How is that big trip planning going for school?"

_Forty-one… dammit, Shinji, pull!_

"It's going well… I just finished up requisitioning a lot of things."

_I can't even break forty-one crunches…_

"It's pretty difficult, but at least I'm able to help out."

"Before we last spoke, you said something about just helping with some minor budgetary things. Now you're doing all the work. I thought that the Arm Slave Club and Photo Club were taking up all your free time after school and coming here?"

"Nobody ever came to those anyway."

"Shinji, even soldiers get R&R. I feel your eagerness, and it's reflected through the very core of what you're doing. But earnesty doesn't always equate to thoroughness."

"I know. But I have to do this. If I can help, I really should."

Nakayama interlaced his fingers, resting his chin. "If you feel that's what you must do, I can't stop you. All I can say is that I hope you continue keeping an open mind not only to your training, but to your emotional training as well. The SDF doesn't take lone wolves. We want soldiers, Shinji. We want people who can really dedicate themselves not because of some temporal emotion, but someone who can fly underneath the radar and surprise us all with their patriotism and teamwork. It would do you well to learn one of those lessons, Shinji, and it's far easier to be a patriot than a team player."

Shinji bowed his head, half out of respect, half out of the recruiter's incisive words. _What teams have I been on, anyway? How many victories have I supported? Even now that I'm training myself, it's solo…_

"I can't tell you what to do, Shinji-kun," the recruiter reached out and patted Shinji's shoulder. "But if you don't understand how people can work together, you'd never move forward as an AS pilot." That's all about teamwork, about knowing your comrades."

"I think I understand, Sergeant Major."

"You're on the right track, Shinji. Stay involved with the trip committee. They could use your insight and knowledge. Learn to delegate authority. That's the first step."

"Right."

It was a long walk from the Narashino training gym to the base hospital, punctuated by short, quiet winds that blew in Japanese red maple leaves from off the base. He tried his best to keep his hands out of his pockets, tried to walk more like a soldier would – proud, upright, strong – but couldn't help but bundle against the cool autumn wind.

_It's easy for the Sergeant Major to say,_ Shinji grumbled to himself. _But there's just so much to do… better than my father, better than myself, better than who I am right now… it isn't easy to know what I'm really supposed to do._

The cold wind blew past Shinji, spiraling into a vortex just at the brickface frontage of the base hospital. The guards recognized him, despite his downcast visage and his hands in his pockets, as he went inside to check up on his father.


	5. Color Saturation

**A/N**: I'm on a roll this week… fatigue can do that to you. I've had a bunch of project work, a working dinner with a bunch of supervisors, and an interview for a promotion, all in 48 hours, all on less than 5 hours' sleep for the past two days. When it rains, it pours. ;-;

Fatigue and overcaffeination, when combined in moderation, combine for some nice ideation. So yeah, another chapter.

On with the show!

* * *

_**5: Color Saturation**_**

* * *

Sengawa-shi, Mitsutomo-chome 481, 4th floor (Tokiwa residence)  
****Wednesday, October 4th, 200X  
****2:34 AM**

The extra workload had fatigued her, just as it would fatigue anyone else considering her schedule. Kyoko rubbed her dry eyes under her glasses, fighting the physical desire to close her eyes despite the numerous cups of green tea coursing through her system.

_I can't wait until this Classics exam is over with,_ she thought, penning out treatises and theories on the Tale of Genji. _Softball season is on and we have schoolwide common exams… to top that off, the Student Council needs figures pronto._

She resisted an old urge, spotting her camera at the far corner of her desk. Its cartoonish sticker smiled back at her, not really looking her in the eye, but not really looking away from her, either. Only recently would she take photos of the pages, then load the photos in her computer and transcribe the notes that way. It had taken a lot of practice to wean that old habit. A lot of practice and a lot of coaching.

"_Genji sent Yugiri to Tamakazura with a message from the emperor to summon her to the court_," she wrote in her notes. "_She had been friendly enough in the days when he had thought her his sister, and it did not seem right to be suddenly cool and distant. She received him at her curtains as before. He had not forgotten the glimpse he had of her the morning after the typhoon. Now the situation had changed, and he had come provided with a fine bouquet of purple pantaloon to attract her attention. But her answer was careful. The ribbons of his cap were tied up in a sign of mourning for his grandmother." This places the significance on the symbology of flowers and plant life for the Heian court, propagated by Chinese influence by what we now call the bellflower-_

A brief buzzing noise marked an E-mail on her cell phone, set to vibrate. She picked it up, wondering who would be trying to reach her so late.

"Kyoko-san: I won't be able to come to the budget meeting tomorrow. I'll be at the base hospital and can get mails. –Shinji," she read out loud. "He's going back to see his father again, huh? I guess he isn't getting better…" Kyoko was all too familiar with having a parent in the hospital; her mother was in a car accident when she was younger. She only remembered the photos she had taken if the hospital, the orderlies, the doctors, their likely frowns covered by surgical masks.

Kyoko hit the OK button on her phone and paged through her address book, composing an E-mail to explain that she would be absent from the committee meeting and afternoon softball practice tomorrow.

**Narashino GSDF Base**  
**Access Gate 1-B  
****3:23 PM**

The bus had deposited her right in front of the gated access road to the Narashino military base. Unfamiliar with the area, she hadn't expected Narashino to be in such a populated area. _Are these all base housing?_ she wondered as she walked the few steps to the guard shack, manned by a GSDF military policeman. _I wonder if Shinji lives on the base or around here with his parents?_

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the guard asked politely.

"I'm actually here to see someone who might have come here a few minutes ago, Shinji Kazama… would it be possible for me to come and see him?"

"Let's see here," the guard checked a clipboard. "Kazama, Shinji… he signed in a few minutes ago. Do you have an access pass or clearance?"

"I have press credentials…" she flustered with a smile, digging out her Jindai Student Council Press Secretary badge. _Well, it works at Tigers games…_

The guard examined the pass. "One moment; let me get Mr. Kazama's clearance contact on the phone." He stepped back into the shack and dialed a three digit extension.

_Wow, I didn't think that would actually work._

"Sergeant Nakayama, this is Otsuka at Gate 1-B. I have a Ms. Kyoko Tokiwa asking for access in reference to Mr. Kazama. I'm at extension 342 and will have her waiting with me. Thank you." The guard hung up his phone and shook his head. "Voice mail. I'm sorry, Ms. Tokiwa, but I can't let you on the base without proper access. We're on a higher alert because of the recent explosion."

"I understand," Kyoko nodded, more than a little dejected. _I guess I should have asked Shinji if I could come see him and his father. I'll try him tomorrow._ She bowed politely. "Sorry to waste your time."

"Not at all," the guard bowed back. "If you don't mind waiting, I could-"

"Kyoko-san? What are you doing here?"

Shinji, clad in a GSDF track suit, ran in place behind the gate. A taller man in similar clothes jogged beside him.

"Shinji? What are you doing? I thought you were going to see your father?"

"Yeah, but it's not visiting hours until 4:30 and the school track was closed this morning."

"I got your E-mail last night – well, more like this morning – and I was a little worried that you were up so late. I wanted to drop by and see how you and your father were doing. You've been taking on a lot of extra work lately."

"Oh, sorry to have worried you," Shinji looked aside a little bit. "Sergeant, can she come along for a while and see my father?"

"So long as you're vouching for her, Shinji. Is this one of your classmates?" Sergeant Major Nakayama nodded to the gate guard. "You can let her in, Otsuka; put her on my clearance roster for the day."

"Kyoko-san, this is Sergeant Major Nakayama of the Ground SDF," Shinji introduced her. "He's been helping me train since the start of summer. Sergeant, this is Kyoko Tokiwa-san, a classmate of mine. She's on the Student Council as well." Shinji stopped running to stretch his legs.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Tokiwa-san," Nakayama shook her hand with a brief bow. "Shinji tells me you're in charge of coordinating your school trip. It must be a real challenge working on plans for that many students."

"Oh, it's a challenge, but we have some great people on the job. Right, Shinji?" Kyoko shot a friendly glance over to her classmate.

"Huh?" he asked, leaning into a hurdler stretch.

"She just paid you a complement, Shinji-kun. This is where you humbly thank her." Moriyama grinned at the barb.

"Oh. Thanks, Kyoko-san. Sorry, my mind is a little bit elsewhere."

"We were just finishing up a few laps, Tokiwa-san. I hate to delay you, but if you don't mind waiting, we can escort you to the officer's quarters for a drink and something to eat while we shower and clean up. Unless you don't mind the sweat."

"Oh, don't let me trouble you. I just wanted to make sure everything was going all right with Shinji and his father. I haven't seen him since the Post Festival last year and I wanted to see how he's doing after the accident."

Shinji stood up from his stretch and looked over his shoulder, towards the base hospital. "He's doing okay," Shinji said rather unenthusiastically, almost dispassionate. "He's getting better as things go along."

"Oh, I see," Kyoko said, a question in her voice. "Well, tell him we all said hello and hope he gets better really soon."

"So how about cleaning up, Shinji?" Moriyama looked between Shinji and Kyoko. _What's that look in his eye?_ she wondered to herself. _He looks like a lion watching over his cubs…_ "Let's not delay the lady on her way."

"See you in class tomorrow, Kyoko," Shinji managed a weak wave, turning back towards the internal part of the base. Moriyama turned to lead him off, brushing past Kyoko and staggering her a little.

"Oh, excuse me!" he exclaimed, reaching down as if to steady her school bag. As he ostentatiously brushed dust off of the leather bag, he tilted his head a few times, signaling her closer.

"Stay a few steps behind us if you can," he mumbled, a calm, commanding air to his voice. "Get a pass from the gate guard. If you get lost, ask to be sent to Regional Command Office, room 2-B. Wait for me there. You should be here a little bit longer." He stepped back. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Tokiwa-san," he said in a normal speaking voice as he turned towards Shinji. "Please be careful on your way home."

"Um, yes…" she said curiously.

As they walked off, she couldn't resist the urge to take a photo. She centered the lens on the sergeant and Shinji, walking off in the shadow of a building, and held the button down until the familiar chirp of the shutter release went off. She pushed a button to preview the image, rewarded with the taller man talking with his hands, explaining something to Shinji, who simply looked back up at the older man.

**Narashino Regional Command Office, Room 2-B  
Later**

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Tokiwa-san." Nakayama walked into his office in his freshly-pressed uniform, his rows of combat decorations solemnly bright against his khaki-colored shirt. "Thank you for coming; I'm glad we didn't frighten you off."

"Well, we're all just curious about Shinji, and most of his friends know his father. We're worried about him. He hasn't talked much about the accident, and it's like he's not himself anymore. Even Ono-D and his friends are clueless."

"Tokiwa-san, Secretary Kazama was injured in an accident attributed to mechanical failure on one of our Type 96es," Sergeant Major Nakayama explained as he poured her some tea. "We haven't released the details to the media yet, but we have a press release slated for release soon. There's no undue circumstances, and thankfully, no deaths as a result of the accident. However, Shinji's father was, without a doubt, the worst injury of all the casualties."

Kyoko shuddered involuntarily. "What happened to him?"

"When the joint of the 96 gave way, it struck and ignited a gas line that was refueling an AS next to it. This caused a rapid vapor explosion, and the Secretary was thrown clear just before the worst of it. However, he suffered some severe second-degree burns. He's in the intensive care ward now. Shinji is on his way over to the base hospital as we speak."

"Oh no…" Kyoko's expression turned to notable sadness. "I wish I had brought flowers for him or something…"

"Secretary Kazama will be fine, don't you worry about that," Nakayama extended a hand to pat her on the wrist. "We have some of the best medics and doctors at Narashino, and Tokyo University's medical school has provided a team of burn specialists. The SDF takes great pride in its safety record, so the Secretary is assured the best care. It's Shinji I'm concerned about."

Kyoko nodded. "He really did change after the accident. He's stopped… well, he's stopped being Shinji. People have seen him working out and volunteering for more committee activities. He talks even less to people now, and I haven't seen him pick up a copy of AS Fan in the past two weeks."

"Exactly. I met Shinji when he was younger, when I was commanding a platoon of construction troops. He'd always expressed interest in joining the SDF, but as time went on, he became very serious about it, especially after the Post Festival. Shinji wasn't in it to one-up anyone or prove himself anymore. I started working with him on and off, and I felt some hesitation at that point. I understood where he was coming from. He wanted so bad to live up to something, but had no need for it anymore. Before the accident, I was expecting him to tell me he wasn't interested in going into the military anymore. He was asking about colleges, career choices. Then afterwards, he came into my office and said 'Sergeant Major Nakayama, I'll do what it takes to be a good soldier. I want to go to the Defense Academy.'"

Kyoko warily wrapped her hands around the hot mug of tea. "Shinji really did want to live up to his father's hopes and dreams, even go beyond them. I was there when it all went down at the Festival. He really did surprise us all, but I guess this is just him doing it again."

"Tokiwa-san, I'll be frank," Nakayama leaned forward in his chair, folding his hands together and looking her directly into the eye. "I love my country and I love my job. The SDF is a vital part of Japan's role in the international order, but it is a somber duty we take up. SDF members are forbidden by law to wear their uniforms in public. We are forbidden by the same law to deploy without the orders of the United Nations. The JSDF is not a force of warmongers. We are defensive forces. We protect our shores. We need someone who thinks the same way, and I cannot have Shinji wasting his life, his energy, and his emotions in this job."

Kyoko blinked. "Sergeant… I don't know why you're telling me this."

"It's because someone needs to reach out to him, Tokiwa-san. I'm not asking you to be his best friend; in fact, I'm not asking anything of you at all. I don't have that right, and I certainly can't – and wouldn't – order you to do it. But as far as I can tell, you're the first person to worry about him. I know it's in a professional context, and there's nothing wrong with that. You're his classmate and he's volunteered to undertake certain responsibilities for your school trip committee. While his commitment to self-improvement is admirable, he needs to focus more on being part of the committee. The more work he does without people backing him up, the more he sees himself as a lone soldier, someone fighting for his own reasons. If he is ever going to learn how to be a team player, someone has to show him the way. You have access to him more than I do, and you…" the sergeant paused uneasily. "You aren't the idol he looks up to."

"It just seems to unfair to him…" Kyoko looked into the dark green murk of her tea, her troubled reflection looking back at her. "Shinji really has a passion for Arm Slaves. He really wants to join the SDF… isn't that his choice?"

"It is indeed," Nakayama nodded. "But at this point, it's not really a choice. It's a path that has no forks or detours along the way. Tunnel vision and having a goal are two separate things; Shinji needs to learn that lesson."

Kyoko took a sip of her tea. "I don't know what I can do, but I am worried about him. _We're_ worried about him," she corrected. "I know a lot of what he's going through from my own experience… but that's a very different experience."

"I won't pretend to sympathize with you or Shinji, Tokiwa-san. But I can only say that I hope you'll consider that Shinji is too bright to be squirreled away into never sharing his passion with the world, rather than being confined within Japan's borders. That is no way for someone with his drive and intelligence to be kept. My hopes are high enough for Shinji that I am not above denying myself and the SDF another recruit."

"I can talk to him at class tomorrow," Kyoko offered. "I'll do what I can… I can always give him something that he _has_ to do with other people." She looked up, a little bit more brightness to her expression. "That's a good start, right?"

Nakayama nodded. "I find it curious that one of his friends didn't try to come here yet," he remarked ironically. "After meeting you, I can tell that what he lacks in quantity is made up for in quality. That's what really matters."

Kyoko walked out of the office, her mind still abuzz. _I don't really want to say "poor Shinji,"_ she thought. _I know he wouldn't want to be pitied. He's too proud for that. But still…_

"I know a lot of what he's going through from my own experience…" _Sometimes tunnel vision is all you've got…_

As an afterthought, she took a photo of the door to the Sergeant Major's office. The gold-leaf kanji characters read "Sergeant Major Kazuya Nakayama, Honshu Regional Command, Recruiting. 2-B."

**The Tokiwa Residence  
1994 (exact date unknown)  
Late evening**

The flashbulb went off for the seventh time in one hour. "There she goes again," Ryoko Tokiwa remarked to her husband over a joyful child's giggle.

"Mama!" the young Kyoko dashed up, holding a camera that was way too big for her tiny hands. "Look! I took a picture of Doraemon from when daddy took me shopping last week! See?" She held up a photo, one of several rolls of film her father had picked up that evening from the nearby photo shop. "And here's one of the garlic that was on sale for a hundred-fifty yen a kilo! And here's a book shop! Daddy bought me a book abound pandas!"

"Really?" Ryoko bent down to look at the photos. "That's amazing!" She leafed through the photos. "What's this one?" she asked, holding up a small print of the cheerful Kyoko holding up the book she had bought.

"That's 'The World of Panda Bears!'" Kyoko exclaimed proudly. "It was written by Hazumori Kazumori! It's forty-six pages long and it has photos of Ling-Ling, a panda given to the Americans by China! Kodansha published it in 1991."

"That's amazing!" Ryoko exclaimed in the way only a mother could, just as the camera flashed once again, its film cycling with a low _whirr_ noise.

"Oh no, I'm out of film!" the little girl exclaimed. "I took that picture of you with my book and now I'm all out. I'll go get some more!" With that, Kyoko dashed up the stairs of their house to her room.

"She's really doing so much better," Ryoko remarked to her husband. "I didn't think that she'd take so well to that camera."

"It's a small price to pay," her husband Takuto remarked, watching their nine-year old daughter trundle upstairs. "She's getting better every day and we might even be able to start her in a public school if she keeps learning at this rate. I wonder if she could take a picture of financial analysis so we could invest for her college fund a little bit better?" He chuckled at the joke.

"I just hope this really does help her in the long run," Ryoko wondered. "A year ago, she barely knew how to spell her own name."

**To be continued...**


End file.
